


I can hear the Bells

by FloatingCowskull



Category: Hairspray (2007), The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Crack, Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Disney, F/M, Time Travel, musical puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1783927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloatingCowskull/pseuds/FloatingCowskull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracy Turnblad finds herself in Medieval Paris.    Quasimodo is looking for Love.  Could this be the start of something beautiful?    Pure and utter crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can hear the Bells

Tracy looked over the city of Paris, taking a deep breath and letting out a long wistful sigh.    The gargoyles next to her were smiling, almost as deeply as she.     It was early morning in this foreign land, all the people singing the songs, animating their lives with dancing.  From Notre Dame, she could see them all, enjoying the simple peasant live, so different from her own.  

Medieval history had always been a dull subject, but being zapped back in time had its benefits.   An accident at the television station in Baltimore, and suddenly she was taking a step to the left on the linoleum flooring, and then a Jump forward onto the ancient slate in the master hall.   The bright lights of the studio palling in comparison to the stained glass, and the quiet penance of all the people fixed in prayer.     

The morning had been spent adjusting, people here spoke English.  Modern English, most astoundingly.   Even for her limited knowledge of history, the streets were strangely limited in diversity, but perhaps, like modern Baltimore, she simply wasn’t in the right area.  The people wouldn’t say.  By midday, she stopped to barter some of her coins for some questionable bread, when a great ringing was heard throughout Paris.  People stopping and looking up to the churches shadow in which they lived and said a silent prayer.  Customs so strange and stereotypical in her mind.  Like steeping into a child’s view of history.  

She tried her hand at musical numbers, “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves” a little too modern for the back-up dancers from the gutter.     But it had been worth a shot.  

Soon after, longing for home, and a little dejected, she headed back to the church, in hopes.   A few scowls from the priesthood, and an eyebrow from a nun, but they let her in.    By the time she reached the top level of the Cathedral, all hope seemed lost.   And she starred out across this city, lost and alone. 

 

For Quasimodo, the day had been the same as any other.  The gargoyles had tried to cheer him up.  Frollo had made his general dejected mood worse.  The bells were rung punctually, as usual.   Until he spied her, a new girl in strange clothing.  A perfect shape for carving a new model for his set.   The sun was low in the sky and he went and stood on the balcony. 

They both looked out over the city as the evening fell over the people, the last of the songs fading.  Both faces turning to look across from the towers of the great church.   Catching each other’s eyes, a new note swelled in both their hearts, bursting forth:

 “I can hear the Bells”

 


End file.
